


No Words

by armistyx



Series: Misadventures of Hyrule [4]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24835744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armistyx/pseuds/armistyx
Summary: There were no words to describe the nature of their relationship.
Relationships: Volga/Impa (Legend of Zelda)
Series: Misadventures of Hyrule [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797214
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	No Words

There were no words to describe the nature of their relationship.

There were no words to describe the tension between them when it came to coming to an agreement on their next plan of action in battle. There were no words to gauge who would take charge in leading their troops. There were no words to describe how they kept their haughty appearances up in front of their fellow men who were none the wiser. There were no words exchanged even now, while they enjoyed the heat of their passions, their bodies a mess of tangling limbs.

Impa scolded herself for giving into such a sin like lust. She was _above_ such mundane desires, but by some twisted prank, the Sheikah was sitting in the dragon's lap. Whatever verbal lashing she had planned to take out on him for cutting through the enemy's forces _not_ on her mark died in her throat as her hips ground into his. She was rewarded with a grunt from Volga -- even that was too much noise by her standard. The Sheikah's hold on his throat grew tighter in response to remind him that she was the one in charge, on _and_ off the battlefield. As long as she could still stand, she would command.

Volga pushed up into her again with a little more force. She wasn't sure if it was a matter to be irritating (as he always seemed to get on her last nerve) or to move things along. Impa's free hand held to the wooden railing of the headboard to brace herself as she rose off of his lap, only to fall back in it. They both let the smallest of sounds with the pleasure creeping up their spines. Volga suppressed the urge to let his hands wander; Impa had warned him prior to keep his hands at the hips only. She was aware of a dragon's instinct to claim and mark what was theirs, but there were too many eyes and not enough excuses to cover their tracks. The only mark she _wished_ she could leave on him is a sense of obedience outside of his quarters.

Their bodies moved fluidly against each other, Volga's claws digging into her legs to steady Impa while she took the lead. Impa's back arched as she picked up the pace with Volga's hips rising to meet her. It felt so wrong to give into her vices, but she could dwell on it later. It was becoming a struggle to keep their noise to a minimum as their peak pushed them over the edge. The Sheikah's body shuddered in the sensation, tightening in just the right way to have Volga lose himself, spilling into the woman on top of him. No words were shared between them still, their own staggered breaths filling the silence between them.

Impa clutched her side with a hiss when the pleasure of her own orgasm ebbed away into a sharp pain in her abdomen. Even with the minimal amount of light in the dimly lit room, she could see, and more importantly, feel her bandages around her stomach saturated with fresh blood. A well-timed throw of a Darknut's blade had caught her off guard in their excursion earlier out in the field, and even with the aid of a bitter-tasting yellow potion, her wound needed time to heal. The Sheikah swore under her breath with her hand now painted completely red. 

Volga sat up from underneath her a bit more to take a look for himself, peeling her bloodied hand away from the wound. _Humans were too soft,_ he thought. He had half a mind to tell her off in her performance, but the damage had already been done. It'd leave a nasty scar for sure. 

"Don't worry about me, dragon," Impa scoffed. "I'll live."

The dragon said nothing, tightening the hold on her wrist when she tried to pull it out of his claws. He instead drew her palm closer, dragging the flat of his long tongue over her fingers. Red eyes met with green in disgust at the gesture. Volga shrugged nonchalantly in disregard, the sharp metallic tang of copper lingering in his mouth. Whether or not she understood that it was meant to be taken as an act of vulnerability, he didn't care. 

"It would be a shame for such a warrior to fall prey to a shoddy blade."

Impa's hardened stare softened in realization at the off-handed comment; if this was the game he was playing at, she _hated_ how he was winning. She wrenched her wrist free from his loose grasp to finally roll off of him and out of his bed, adjusting her clothes wordlessly. They hadn't bothered to undress, as time was of the essence. Goddesses knew they _both_ would rather be dead than caught fraternizing with each other. 

The Sheikah turned to face him once more, daring to even let the tiniest of smiles on her lips. "Sunrise. On the field with the rest of the troops. Do I make myself clear?"

Volga gave an affirmative grunt and waved her away. They knew he'd show whenever he felt like it, but at least the attempt was made. Impa straightened her posture and moved stiffly out of his quarters--

\-- nearly bumping into Link, chest to chest. They both paused in their places to stare at each other in question, neither of them sure of what to say. His expression was only that of surprise, and Impa felt her face heat up having been caught sneaking out of her so-called worst nightmare’s room. Any excuse she had prepared beforehand drew a complete blank.

Link blinked in at the sight of red suddenly seeping through the blue of her high-waisted pants. His hands moved in a flurry of signs as if to ask if she was alright. He remembered seeing her collapse with after her encounter with the Darknut, and losing her to a nasty infection was not an option if he could prevent it.

"I'm fine," she sighed, attempting to cover it with one of her hands. "I... I couldn't find anyone at the infirmary to help me redress it, so I asked Volga for a second opinion. Needless to say, he's sloppy with bandages, you see."

The Hylian knit his brows together in confusion. Volga? _Her worst enemy?_

The Sheikah shook her head to refute any sense of doubt he might have. "In any case, shouldn't you be resting? _You_ will be leading the troops tomorrow, and I need you at nothing less than your best! Understand?" Link raised his hands up in defeat; understood. "I'll see you in the morning then, captain," Impa turned on her heel before he could respond.

Uncertainty creeped in Link's mind as he knocked on the dragon's door. Something seemed... _off._ He couldn't put his finger on it. He opened the door when Volga's gruff voice had invited him in. Link noticed how relaxed he looked, languidly spread out on his bed with a book in hand. His eyes met with Volga's over the book's edge. With a few vague gestures, Link asked about their general, but was interrupted with another nonchalant shrug.

 _"Apparently,"_ he drawled on, "I'm sloppy."

The Hylian sighed heavily and threw his arms up in the air in exasperation. He shut the door behind him and struggled to put two and two together and chose to mull over everything he did know: there was _always_ someone in the infirmary, it was _much t_ oo dark to be reading in Volga's room, and Volga clearly wasn't fooling anyone by holding a book _upside-down._

There were no words.

**Author's Note:**

> my friend sheep is making me ship volga and impa too much and honestly??? i love them
> 
> [join my discord!](https://discord.gg/STKAMnS)


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